


Lips of an Angel

by ZukoRocks30



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Adultery, Divorce, F/M, Hogwarts, Pregnancy, song-fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-14
Updated: 2014-09-14
Packaged: 2018-02-17 08:06:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2302571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZukoRocks30/pseuds/ZukoRocks30
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In honor of Snapes_Goddess (who has written some of the best Hermione-Slytherin fanfiction I have ever read on Adultfanfiction.net), this is a song-fic inspired by Hinder's "Lips of an Angel."</p>
<p>Draco and Hermione just can't seem to keep away from each other, even though they're married to other people.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lips of an Angel

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any other characters found in the Harry Potter Universe. They belong to J.K. Rowling and Warner Brothers. I merely enjoy borrowing and using them for my own enjoyment! I make no money from this story.
> 
> Author's pet-peeve: It drives me nuts when songwriters don't have proper grammar in their lyrics. Therefore, I have "corrected" the incorrect grammar in Hinder's song using brackets. Grr....
> 
> Author's note: I do not condone adultery, and I hate seeing marriages end in divorce. However, I can't NOT have a happy ending for my two protagonists. :-)

Draco Malfoy woke up trembling and sweating, his sleep pants sticky from his release. He laid his forearm over his eyes and gave a small sigh. He climbed gently out of the large four-poster bed so as not to disturb his wife, Pansy. After retrieving his wand and muttering a cleansing charm on his pants, he slipped on a black silk robe and padded softly out to the adjoining sitting room. He pointed his wand at the fireplace and muttered a quick _incendio_ to ward off the chill of the night. He then sat on the maroon leather couch facing the fire, _accio_ ed a tumbler and some firewhisky, poured and threw back a quick couple of fingers, then sat brooding.

Whenever Draco had one of those dreams involving _her_ , he just couldn’t stay in bed with his wife, and “whenever” was becoming unsettlingly frequent. Sure, he'd had the odd dream every now and then about her since he had been married. But two to three times a week now for the last six weeks? Of course, circumstances being what they were six weeks ago….

Draco broke off his thoughts and shook his head at the recent actions of his own body. For Merlin’s sake, was he regressing back into puberty? Yet, it was not so much the actions of his body that bothered Draco, but rather the dreams that caused said actions; even more precisely, the _subject_ of said dreams. In the back of Draco’s mind, he understood the truth of the situation. Only in his dreams did he have the freedom to remember and re-experience the passion he had beheld with just one other person in his life. Only in his dreams could he indulge his desire and his need with the witch who matched him in every way. That witch was not, nor would ever be, his wife.

Pansy had been his friend for as long as he could remember. Their marriage had been a pure-blood match arranged by their parents before either of them could crawl. Even after they were married, Draco and Pansy were still close friends. Only now, they lived together in Malfoy Manor, slept together in the same bed, and once a week they had tasteful, friendly sex. But Draco could never look on Pansy with the possessive desire that _she_ incited. And Pansy never looked at him with fire in her eyes or a challenge on her tongue. Not like the way _she_ used to….

Draco poured himself another measure of firewhisky and threw it back, enjoying the burn as it trailed down into his stomach. If only he could forget. He contemplated getting a small drunk on to seek the oblivion he desired, both from his dreams and his resulting thoughts.

Draco started as the flames in his fireplace suddenly gave a short burst and then became green. Draco’s eyes widened. Not many people had floo access to the fireplace in the sitting room of his bedroom suite. Besides his parents, his mate Blaise Zabini, and a few managers of his businesses (who were only supposed to call in extreme emergencies), there was only one other person to whom he’d given access…. Surely not….

And then her head appeared in the flames: her bushy curls framing her face, her eyes wide and bright, and her perfect lips curved in a small, sad smile. “Hello, Draco,” she said softly.

Draco sank to his knees on the floor. “Hermione,” he croaked hoarsely.

The two stared at each other for a minute before Draco found his voice and said, “I thought we weren’t going to contact each other like this again.”

Hermione’s eyes looked down briefly before looking back into his. He noticed a glossy sheen to them as she replied, “I know. I’m sorry, but….” She took a deep breath. “I had to.”

“Hermione,” Draco said, his voice barely above a whisper. “You know this floo is dangerous for us to use. My wife is in the next room, asleep. But if she were to wake up and hear us….” Pansy was still clueless about Draco and Hermione’s affair before (and that one time he’s not supposed to remember after) they were married.

“I know,” she said just as quietly.

“I don’t think your husband would appreciate you fire-calling me in the middle of the night, either.”

“No, Ron would blow a gasket [Gasket? Draco wondered], and I really don’t need another fight with him right now.” She sighed. Hermione, the silly Gryffindor that she was, had confessed of her secret relationship with Draco to Ron. Apparently it was still a sore point in their marriage. “Look, I have a reason for fire-calling you,” she continued. “I had to talk to you, and it had to be somewhat in person. This is the third night in a row I’ve woken up after dreaming about you, and these dreams have convinced me that I need to talk to you about…something that’s happened. Besides, I figured this time of night I would be more likely to catch you alone if you were up. You always were more of a night owl.” She gave another small smile in remembrance. “Please, Draco, just let me talk to you for a couple minutes.”

Despite the danger of their spouses finding out, Draco reveled being in Hermione’s presence once more. He loved hearing his name on her lips again. While Pansy’s voice was always politely pleasant, as a pure-blood lady’s always should be, Hermione’s changed with her moods. The way she said his name now was almost reverently, like a prayer. He remembered when she would grit her teeth and growl it in an argument. He particularly loved the way she had screamed it when she shattered around him in ecstasy.

Draco nodded his head in answer to her plea.

Draco surprised himself by saying, “You know, it’s funny you’re fire-calling me tonight.”

Her brow wrinkled. “Why’s that, Draco?”

Merlin, he loved the sound of his name from her lips! “The reason I’m up and that you finally caught me is that I woke up from a dream about you, too. I’ve also been having those a lot lately. Do you know what specifically I was dreaming about tonight?”

“Draco….”

“It was the night of the Ministry’s New Year’s Gala.”

There was silence for a few moments. Draco realized he had broken the taboo in mentioning their one night of indiscretion, but something inside him couldn’t help it. He missed and craved her presence too much.

“Draco, about—“

“I can’t forget about you, you know? Much as I try to avoid thinking about you during the day, you seem to be invading my dreams all too often now at night. If only—“

“Draco!”

Hermione’s eyes widened as she realized how loudly she had said his name. Draco reveled in the fire of annoyance in Hermione’s eyes before he checked over his shoulder to make sure his wife was still in the other room asleep. He turned back to Hermione with his eyebrow raised.

“Sorry,” Hermione said, her voice quiet once more. “You always seem to rile me up.”

Draco chuckled. “Yes, but it’s one of the things you love about me.” He smirked at her.

“Draco, please!” Her face became pleading, and Draco became serious once more.

“Please, let me say what I needed to fire-call you about,” she said softly, tensely.

“Alright, Hermione, what is it?”

Hermione closed her eyes to gather her strength, and Draco suddenly realized as he looked at her face that something was wrong. Her nose and cheeks were red, and her eyes seemed puffy and swollen. “Are you alright?” he asked. “Have you been crying?” This surprised him, as Hermione was not overly weepy.

Hermione turned her head to the side, prompting Draco to ask, “What’s wrong, Hermione?”

“Oh, Draco,” she sighed lightly, her head still turned to the side. She was silent a moment, then said, “It’s about what happened at the Ministry’s New Year’s Gala.”

“Hermione, I know I made the mistake of mentioning it earlier, but we agreed not to discuss that night again, nor make a repeat of what happened.” Draco couldn’t help a slight edge of annoyance creeping into his voice.

“Draco, I….” She turned back to look in his eyes. He was startled to see the fear in them. “Something happened that night…something neither of us intended….”

“What do you mean? What happened, Hermione?”

“I’m…I’m….” Hermione had never had trouble being blunt with him before. Where had all of her Gryffindor courage gone? Her voice was very soft when she said, “Neither of us remembered the spell that night.”

“What spell?”

She sighed. “ _The_ spell. The one we always had to cast because I’m…allergic to the potion.”

Draco paled and his eyes widened suddenly at the implication of her words. They had both been a bit drunk that night, their inhibitions lowered to the point that they gave in to the passion they had denied still existed between them, despite both of them being married to other people for two years. However, neither had been drunk enough to not remember what happened that night, and Draco clearly remembered that neither of them had cast any spells that night, especially that particular spell.

“Are you telling me that you’re….” Draco swallowed hard.

Hermione nodded. “Yes.”

Draco slumped down on his bottom against the coach. “Are you sure it’s mine?” he croaked.

Hermione nodded again. “Ron was out on assignment until January 15th. That, and….” She cleared her throat. “And we’ve been having some problems and haven’t been…all that often.” Even the fire showed her cheeks filling with more color in her embarrassment.

Draco flushed slightly himself, but couldn’t help think that despite all the problems that he and Hermione had had during their relationship, it never prevented them from falling into bed together. If anything, their passionate arguments always fueled very vibrant and intense make-up sex.

Draco’s thoughts raced as he puzzled through his predicament. He had never anticipated this happening. A child. A baby! A life created out of the passion and stupidity of a drunken night’s pleasure. Draco gulped. An illegitimate, _half-blood_ child. His father would kill him…if Lucius ever found out.

Of course, Draco always figured that he and Pansy would have a child someday. After all, they had to have an heir to pass on the Malfoy name, holdings, and estate. However, Pansy and he had decided not to have children for several more years yet, and Malfoys never had illegitimate children.

It would make sense for Hermione to simply get rid of their problem. After all, if she followed through and allowed the child to be born, if the child looked anything like Draco, it would be obvious to the Weasel that the child was not his,…unless the Weasel was told of the child ahead of time and agreed to accept and raise the child. Yet, the thought of the Weasel raising his child made Draco’s blood boil. If anyone would be raising and giving his child a name, it would be Draco Malfoy! Pansy may not like it, but she would hold her tongue, grin, and bear it to maintain the prestige of the Malfoy name. But would Hermione be willing to give up her child to be raised by him and Pansy? Hermione and Pansy never exactly got along….

Hermione allowed Draco time to think as it was obvious his thoughts were whirling inside his head.

A wild thought that had been stewing in the back of Draco’s mind ever since the New Year’s Gala suddenly popped to the forefront of his mind. _No_ , he thought fiercely, shaking his head. It couldn’t happen. It was too frowned upon in the wizarding world…. Rather, in wizarding Britain…. Still, could they do that? Would it work? It wouldn’t solve all their problems, but…. And he’d probably be disinherited for doing something so outrageous. Pansy would never forgive him…. But then, they would finally be able to be together…be a family, the way he always wished it could be. Would Hermione actually go for it, though, too?

Draco thought everything out for another couple of minutes before he finally looked up to Hermione’s beautiful face, resolve written in his eyes. “Hermione, hear me out. Here is what I think we could, maybe even should, do.” And with that, he launched into his plan.

 

_Three years, two divorces, and a wedding later..._

 

Draco was sitting at the desk in his hotel room, mulling over some figures for what would soon be his latest business acquisition, when the yellow flames of the fire across the room suddenly burst into a bright green color. He smiled and hurriedly went over to kneel in front of the fireplace. He had been expecting this floo-call all evening.

“Daddy!” came the squeal of a little voice from the floo.

Draco chuckled. “How's my little man today?”

“I miss you! When you coming home?”

The little face pouted, making Draco chuckle again. His son was almost his spitting image, except his face was a bit rounder and less pointed and his hair was more sandy blond in color and had a tendency to curl.

Despite his delight in seeing his son, Draco's heart skipped a beat when he heard his wife's voice. “Scorpius! Didn't I tell you to not pester your father? And, besides, young man, when did I say he would be coming home when you asked me earlier today?”

Scorpius's face fell, and he looked over his shoulder to his mother, who was currently out of Draco's sight. “You said Papa back in two days, Momma. But two days is a weally long time!”

Draco couldn't help agreeing with his son's assessment. Two days was indeed a very long time to be away from his family, particularly away from his wife.

“Don't worry, Scorpius,” Draco said soothingly, “I'm sure your mother will play all kinds of games with you to keep you occupied. Before you know it, I'll be back home with you. And I'll be bringing home plenty of presents....”

“Yea! I wuv presents!”

“Draco!”

Draco winced at the angry sound of his wife's voice, but he couldn't help the smirk that spread across his face as she gently pulled Scorpius away from the fire so that her own face was now wreathed in green flames. Draco raked his eyes over his wife's face, wishing he could run his hands over her bushy hair and the smooth skin of her cheeks. More than anything, he wanted to lie beside her and hold her close while they slept...or did other enjoyable activities. His large hotel bed was just way too lonely for one person.

“How many times have I told you to stop bribing our son?! He's already growing up with more money than he knows what to do with, and you continue to spoil him rotten! I can only guess how much worse you're going to be when our daughter is born!”

Draco's breath caught in his throat.

“Daughter? You're...again? And it's...it's....”

Hermione's angry face softened, but the red in her cheeks suffused to embarrassment. “I didn't mean to tell you that way. But yes...I'm expecting, and the healer told me this morning it's a girl.” She gave a small smile, and Draco felt his heart practically burst with emotion.

“Hermione, you make me the happiest man in the world! I wish I were home right now to show you how happy I am!”

Hermione smiled at him softly. “Me, too, Draco,” she murmured.

He gave her a sultry look. “I'll show you my true appreciation in two days.”

She looked at him through lowered lashes. “I'm looking forward to it.”

“I love you, Hermione.”

“I love you, too,...Draco.”

Even after all this time, he still loved to hear his name on her lips.

“Lips of an Angel” by Hinder

Honey, why ya callin’ me so late?  
It’s kinda hard to talk right now.  
Honey, why ya cryin’, is everything okay?  
I gotta whisper ‘cuz I can’t be too loud.

Well, my girl’s in the next room.  
Sometimes I wish she [were] you.  
I guess we never really moved on.

It’s really good to hear your voice sayin’ my name.  
It sounds so sweet.  
Comin’ from the lips of an angel,  
Hearin’ those words, it makes me weak.  
And I never want to say goodbye,  
But, girl, you make it hard to be faithful  
With the lips of an angel.

It’s funny that you’re callin’ me tonight.  
And yes, I’ve dreamt of you, too.  
Does he know you’re talkin’ to me?  
Will it start a fight?  
No, I don’t think she has a clue.

Well, my girl’s in the next room.  
Sometimes I wish she [were] you.  
I guess we never really moved on.

It’s really good to hear your voice sayin’ my name.  
It sounds so sweet.  
Comin’ from the lips of an angel,  
Hearin’ those words, it makes me weak.  
And I never want to say goodbye,  
But, girl, you make it hard to be faithful  
With the lips of an angel.

Honey, why ya callin’ me so late?


End file.
